Time Passes By
by Megera

Disclaimer: I don't own Cats. I do own a cat, however, but she's not of the dancing/singing variety.

A/N: I sat down at my computer and this just came out. *shrug*

~

I would never be so detached and cold to say that I settled for second best. That would be flattering myself, because I really didn't deserve what I got. Looking back, things worked out for the best, I suppose. That doesn't change the way I felt.

There aren't a whole lot of cats my age, so all of us that were kittens together formed a fairly tight bond, despite the fact that two of them would eventually isolate themselves from the group. There was Skimbleshanks, Jellylorum, Bustopher Jones, Grizabella, Jennyanydots and myself. And we were all very close. Even Bella, as we called her at the time ('Bella', we found, was far more charming and more suiting than 'Griz') was a part of the group, not the outcast she would later become.

Life was a game of us vs. them, we younger cats against our parents and the other elders. We liked Deuteronomy (who at the time wasn't ready to add "Old" to his name) enough, although as the leader-in-training, he could be a strict disciplinarian. In general, we were content to be with ourselves.

Our numbers worked out nicely, three toms, three queens, and it was expected that we would eventually pair off when the time came, who would be with whom was a bit of a mystery for a while, however. Bella kept things interesting by changing her tom of choice every day. And the three of us were all interested, I would be lying to say otherwise. The stories are true; she was radiant in her youth. She was tall and her velvety fur was a color that could never be described as gray. It was silver and seemed to gather the sun instead of reflect it. She had bright eyes, a catching smile, and a swing to her step that didn't go unnoticed. Some compare young Bombalurina to our Bella, but Bella was of a different beauty and seemed to lack the attachments that the red queens likes to keep private. Bella was never of the tribe like Bombalurina is.

I know the kittens think that we've been old forever, but we were typical youths, loud, energetic, smarter than our parents. We were quite taken with ourselves, convinced we were the finest specimens of cat to ever walk the earth.

And I suppose we were a fairly comely lot. Even Bustopher, who has let himself go in the past few years, was quite good-looking in his day. Jelly was pretty, and Skimble was full of charm. Bella I have already described. But my eyes were for Jenny. Ah, she was lovely. And it wasn't just her marmalade fur and emerald eyes that made her so. Jenny is one of those rare creatures that comes along endowed with something special. Something you can't put your finger on, but is there just the same. Her smile lit up the darkest day, and when she laughed, everyone did. Upon meeting Jennyanydots, you felt she deserved nothing but the good things in life. Everyone loved her, I think. I don't know if I could claim that my love for her was greater than Skimble's but it felt like it was at the time. I thought no one could care for her like I did.

Ah, but Skimble. Skimble is equally charming. His soft, slightly muddled accent picked up from various stops along the rails and his incredible good humor was hard to compete with. But he was gone often, even as a youth he spent a good deal of his time on those trains. I thought that the time apart might help to delay the attraction between the two of them. But absence makes the heart grow fonder. A bit of ancient wisdom that still rings true, I suppose. I remember when I learned that.

We were adult enough to have "special feelings" for members of the opposite sex, but kitten enough for these feelings to seem a bit of a novelty.

At the time, Bustopher was Bella's flavor of the month. The two of them were constantly running off to secret corners of the junkyard, staying away for hours. The elders thought that perhaps Bella was ready to finally make a choice, but they would later find out that she was a long way from settling down. With Bella and Bustopher together (or so it appeared) and Skimble and Jenny together, Jelly assumed that she and I were together. I admit that I did little to dissuade her. She was very pretty and very kind and I liked her as a friend. My father approved of her, so I was willing to play the game, but only play.

Skimble had been gone for quite a long time. Several weeks, I think, and Jenny was, well, lonely. For her to be sad was almost unthinkable, so I made every attempt to distract and entertain her. The wind was warm and gentle, and a quick game of hide-and-seek seemed in order. Jelly was napping and Jenny was it.

There was an ancient dollhouse that I imagine had been a beloved toy for some human child long ago. Now it's all but rotted away, but at the time, it was more of a shell. The outside still in tact, the inside empty. I chose this for my hiding place, because it concealed me well and the windows allowed me to keep an eye on Jenny.

I sat completely motionless, listening for Jenny's giggle. I planned to leap out at her when she got close enough, but I lost track of her when she wandered outside my line of sight.

"Where is she?" I muttered, my eyes searching the junkyard eagerly.

"Here!" and the dollhouse rocked violently. I climbed out and saw Jenny standing on top of it, looking rather pleased with herself.

"How'd you find me so fast? I thought this was the perfect spot."

"Me too." She giggled. "That's why I looked here first."

"Dang. I'll have to chose more carefully next time."

"Next time." She repeated. "Another next time. Let's go up to the chest."

The chest was, well, a chest. It was topless, making its snug insides easily accessible. It was also one of the highest points in the junkyard. Before a particularly violent wind knocked it down, the chest was in the same category as "the tire", "the car boot", and "the drain pipe".

"All right. To the chest."

Getting to the chest took some time. One had to maneuver up and around many other bits of rubbish. It was a place usually forbidden to kittens for this reason, and it was a team effort getting to the top. We finally pulled each other up into the thing, settling comfortably and watching the sun make its slow arch across the sky.

"It's nice up here." I commented idly.

"Yeah, it is." she sighed. "It's a little depressing sometimes."

"Why?" I asked.

"You can see time pass up here. Makes me feel old."

"Jen, you're far from old."

"I'm getting there."

"Nah, you've got tons of time."

"I always have lots of time. Too much, sometimes. Skimble's gone so often . . . and I have nothing but time when he's away."

"You sound old when you say that."

"I am getting older."

"No, you don't age."

She laughed, a beautiful, melodic sound. "Yes I do."

"Never inside. You change a little, but you never age."

"You're sweet, Junior."

"Ugh. Don't call me that."

"Well, you are Asparagus Jr."

"But it makes me sound so young."

"It does. I kinda like that."

"Well, I'll be young for you if you'll be old for me."

"We can balance each other out."

My heart fluttered a little. "Yeah. We could be timeless forever that way."

"Timeless. I like the sound of that."

"I'll play hide-and-seek with you whenever you want. Let me occupy your time and you won't be able to age."

"You'll stop time for me?"

"Just say the word."

Jenny smiled. "I believe you would, too."

"I love you, Junior. You know that?"

"And I love you." The words were so similar, the meanings so different. She loved me like a brother, like a friend.

"Jenny!"

The queen sat straight up. "Oh! It's Skimble!" and she ran daintily down the rubbish, not slowing until she ran right into him.

I watched them embrace and truth settled on me. I could stop time for her, but that was not enough.

Jellylorum came to me, woken by Skimble yelling for Jenny. "They're cute, aren't they?" she asked, and I nodded. I couldn't bring myself to say anything.

"Have you missed me, lass?" Skimble inquired, titling her chin up to look her in the eyes.

"Terribly." She answered promptly. "But I managed to keep distracted." She winked at me, then turned her attention back to Skimble.

"She's so dramatic." Jelly said, shaking her head.

"This coming from the junkyard's best actress." I teased.

"I'm only that dramatic on stage, never in real life." She said, stepping closer. I put my arm around her and resolved to end the game. I still came out a winner, Jelly was a fine prize, even if she wasn't first.

I stopped going up to the chest after that. Instead, Jelly and I found a nice old mattress that we could call our own. It was hidden away behind and under other large pieces of trash and we eventually made it our den. My feelings of friendship for Jelly turned easily into love, and we started a family fairly soon.

Bella skipped out of the junkyard one day, talking about a more exciting life than the junkyard could offer. The rest of her story is a bit of a mystery, but the end result is known. Although when the end came, perhaps "Griz" was a more suiting knick name.

Bustopher's humans came into a large amount of money and moved to St. James's Street. We saw far less of Bustopher after that. I think that his feelings for Bella had been deeper than anyone had thought, for he turned away from other queens and spent more time with food.

Skimble continued with his trains, and Jenny found other ways to occupy her time. When the orange tom was away, she took to teaching the mice and beetles various crafts such as knitting to keep them out of trouble and keep her mind off of Skimble's absence. Despite the fact that Jenny deserved, as I mentioned before, nothing but the good things in life, she miscarried twice. Eventually she made it to term and had kits of her own that proved a fair distraction when the mice did not.

The four of us remain close, but never close enough for me to admit to anyone my feelings for Jenny. Nothing good would come of it, it would only complicate things for everyone. Jenny did age, we all have. People stopped calling me Junior and Jenny seems to no longer want to balance time.

But I think, if she asked, I would find a way to stop the clock.